Storm The Castle by Wil Doughty

The battle of Sella Fortress began as the royal city choir commenced. Harmonious rule shone in form throughout the halls of the Harlston Citadel. The first step into battle was accentuated by the first note struck on the piano. Far away in distant lands, the two were connected by the instigators behind the motions themselves. Brothers of Alphaeus. The one that went to war, and the one who stayed behind. Two more steps struck the two notes, needles of rain began to patter on the overturned cobble. The pack followed the latter, who had stopped. So had the pianist. For a small moment, the two thought of one another. A connected thought, that was tainted with sharp memories. I love you. I miss you. Please let me see you again. You are all I have. Then, the piano struck tune, and the brother found rhythm as he ran into battle. The King was impressed. Eagerly slouched in his diamond throne upon this Kingdom's finest masterpiece. The choir soon followed in low polyphony symmetry, and the army charged. A golden harp tuned to the sweet melody of clashing weapons. Locked and safe inside the Kingdom walls, the Kings smile was the epitome of greed. The battle forged, founding the fathers of what fought for. A warrior fell. Followed by another. Succumbing to the rages of warfare. One by one, members of the choir dropped off to detail the pack. Each passing moment, the herd grew thinner. The brother of War in ninefold gallant efforts, focused his attention above Sella Fortress. The choir remained, much less of before. The pianist continued to strike notes in the finale and the King gradually laboured from his seat. Dark red lightening licked at a floating body above the high tower. The Dark Charisma Queen twitched inhumanly as she rose higher into the air. No choir members remained standing. The harp was delicate, a few thrums from silence. Only one soldier remained. He raised his sword at an unmatchable opponent. His few steps that he took, were his last. The final note was struck in Harlston. The King credited with thunderous applause. Claps of thunder struck the warrior. The piece, had ended. The pianist shook hands with the king as the initiator of such art. And with that he slipped away back to his chamber, and started to cry.